


How do you feel about Portland?

by rsadelle



Category: Bandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-04
Updated: 2012-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-01 03:56:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/351695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsadelle/pseuds/rsadelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about your dad being Pete Wentz is that there isn't a whole lot you can do to rebel. Bronx doesn't really want to rebel that much anyway - his parents are pretty cool, even if they still sometimes snipe at each other - but it would be nice to have the option, you know? So when Evie Beckett, who he kind of knows but not that well, calls him up and says, "Want to elope to Vegas on your eighteenth birthday?" he says, "Yes," and starts planning how to get out of the house without anyone noticing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How do you feel about Portland?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this over email to entertain [](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile)[**inlovewithnight**](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/) and [](http://romanticalgirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**romanticalgirl**](http://romanticalgirl.livejournal.com/).

The thing about your dad being Pete Wentz is that there isn't a whole lot you can do to rebel. Bronx doesn't really want to rebel that much anyway - his parents are pretty cool, even if they still sometimes snipe at each other - but it would be nice to have the option, you know? So when Evie Beckett, who he kind of knows but not that well, calls him up and says, "Want to elope to Vegas on your eighteenth birthday?" he says, "Yes," and starts planning how to get out of the house without anyone noticing.

*

Early enough in the morning of his birthday that it can still be called late last night, Bronx leaves a note for his dad - "Went out. Back later." - gets in his car, and drives to Vegas. He picks Evie up at the airport and she reads him directions off her phone to the chapel she's picked out.

Their wedding is very sedate, no Elvises and too early in the day for drunks. It's just them, a very nice woman who officiates, and a couple of chapel staff who sign as witnesses.

They check into a hotel after. Evie smiles at the clerk and chirps, "We're on our honeymoon!" It gets them upgraded to a suite that they don't really need. They have sex, twice because the first time wasn't that good, then check out again and make the drive back to L.A.

"Dude," his dad says when they get home, "where have you been? You've been gone all day." He barely blinks at Evie being there. They get enough surprise houseguests that one more isn't that big a deal.

"Out," Bronx says, and he walks past his dad into the rest of his birthday party. Bronx has a few friends at school, but he's not really close to anyone, and he wanted his party to be just family. His mom, aunt, and both sets of grandparents are there, and Uncle Travie and Uncle Gabe.

His dad follows him, frowning a little now. "The guest rooms are full. We'll have to reshuffle or put one of you on the couch."

"She can stay with me." Bronx takes Evie's hand and pulls her into the room full of his family.

His dad laughs. "I know we're permissive parents, but not that permissive."

Bronx stops and turns around before anyone can come hug him. They've all gone quiet, though, waiting to say hi to him. "We got married this morning, so she can stay with me."

"You did what?" his mom asks from behind him.

Bronx turns to face her. "We got married."

"We have a marriage license," Evie says brightly. "And pictures." She holds up her phone, where she's already changed the background to the one of them kissing at the altar. While Bronx drove back, she downloaded as many photos as would fit on her phone from the chapel's website.

"What were you thinking?" Bronx's mom almost yells. He doesn't know what she's so upset about. She's been married three times now to his dad's two. Neither of them have any stones to throw about marriages.

Bronx doesn't know how to answer the question anyway.

Evie's a good wife, though, because she does. "Well, I was bored, so I thought to myself, 'What would Uncle Gabe do?'"

All eyes in the room turn to Uncle Gabe, who holds his hands up and says, "I have never run off to Vegas to get married."

Bronx takes advantage of the distraction and tugs on Evie's hand to pull her around most of the grown-ups. "Come meet my grandma." He means the one who's less likely to interrogate Evie about her beliefs about Jesus. He doesn't actually know what they are, but that's the kind of discussion everyone will be happier if they don't have.

*

It doesn't work out quite the way they hoped, but it does work in the end, because neither of them really know what they want to do with their lives, even though Evie's in college and Bronx is supposed to be applying for next fall. Bronx moves in with Evie and her roommates, who giggle at him and leave bras drying in the shower. He gets a part-time job, even though he has access to his trust fund, and makes snacks that he sends with Evie when she's on campus all day. They fight about stupid shit like who left the cap off the toothpaste (that one's usually actually their roommate Marguerite, who is a very nice girl, but not very practical) and big stuff like Bronx not being happy (he _is_ , he says, but Evie stares him down and says, "Bullshit," flat out), but they also listen to each other, and Evie emails him a giant list of math-related careers when he says that he actually likes numbers.

*

Evie comes home one day and sits down next to Bronx on the couch. He's pretty sure that if he were taller or she were shorter, she'd be sitting on his lap, but as it is, she has her legs draped over his, her arms around him, and her head on his shoulder.

"How do you feel about Portland?" she asks.

"What's in Portland?"

Evie sighs. "A job, if I want it."

"Do you?"

Evie shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe? I don't really have anything else I want to do. Do you want to go to Portland?"

Bronx puts his chin on her shoulder and thinks about it. "I don't really have anything else I want to do."

"What if I hate the job? What if we hate Portland?"

Bronx shrugs. "Then you get another one, and I'm pretty sure my trust fund will cover moving expenses."

Evie sighs and gets up. "I guess we're moving to Portland." Before she goes off to study or email her parents or whatever, she leans over and kisses him. "Thanks."

Bronx catches her hand and kisses her wrist. "Bet you didn't know you were getting crappy career advice when you married me."

Evie laughs. "I had no idea what I was getting." She kisses him again, longer this time, and Bronx is pretty sure he's getting laid later.

*

Evie's job comes with someone to help them find a place to live, which comes with a billion questionnaires they have to fill out.

When they get to Portland, it's an apartment, which Bronx expected, but it's just them, which he didn't.

"You love living with people," he says. They could have found roommates. Surely even the probably overpriced rental agent/consultant could have found them some.

Evie says, "You don't," and shoves a box marked "Kitchen" at him.

He stands there, holding it, and looking at her. "You did this for me?"

She takes the box back from him and takes it to the kitchen herself. "You moved in with me when we got married. Now we can try it your way."

*

Evie's good at her job, but she hates it. While neither of them had what you would call an unprivileged childhood, they were both raised with a combination of artist and punk values, and corporate consulting isn't very artist or punk.

Bronx loves his job. While Evie does the corporate nine-to-five, he works part-time at an indie coffee shop. He gets to know the regulars, as well as most of the artists and musicians in the neighborhood, and they start to make friends out of the people he meets.

They talk about getting a dog, but decide they aren't ready for the commitment, so they volunteer at an animal shelter on Saturdays instead.

The Tuesday morning regulars at the coffee shop include a staff meeting from a place down the street. They do some kind of citywide activism - whatever, Bronx likes his life simple - and one of them gave him the tip about the animal shelter.

Evie drops in one Tuesday when she has a meeting nearby.

Bronx leans across the counter to kiss her - he wears an apron; it doesn't matter if he's dragging his front into spilled coffee - which gets him a wolf whistle from one of the more flamboyant members of the staff meeting.

"Bronx, dude, now you have to introduce us."

Bronx goes around the counter. "This is my wife Evie." He introduces her around, and she chats with them for a few minutes while he makes her coffee.

Between the animal shelter and the nonprofit, they start to make connections, enough that when one of the members of the nonprofit's staff leaves to take a policy job in Eugene, they invite Evie to interview.

"Are you sure I should do this?" Evie frets the morning of her interview.

Bronx gets out of bed to kiss her, careful so he won't undo her look. "You hate your job. You love these people. You could be spending every Tuesday morning in my coffee shop. You'll do great."

She gets the job, of course, and she comes home from work every day glowing with how much she loves it.


End file.
